


Picture It

by N16



Series: To Kill a Nightmare [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Bromance, Friendship, Gen, Illness, Post-Magic Reveal, The boys take care of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27590183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N16/pseuds/N16
Summary: It shouldn't be a big deal for Arthur to sentence a murderer to death, but the feelings get a little more complicated when that murderer happens to have magic. Just like Merlin.(This is meant to be a sequel to To Kill a Nightmare and Papercuts and Fireballs, but I believe I've written it so that it can stand alone.)
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: To Kill a Nightmare [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007190
Comments: 16
Kudos: 278





	Picture It

**Author's Note:**

> The Graphic Violence disclaimer refers to a graphic-ish description of an execution. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Arthur glanced at Merlin out of the corner of his eye as they made their way to his chambers. His brain felt foggy, but not so foggy that he didn't realize there might be cause for him to be concerned about his servant.

At least, he tried to glance at him. Merlin was being annoyingly insistent about walking a couple of steps behind him, an act of propriety he hadn't seen from him in years.

And that, of course, answered Arthur's question for him.

The moment they were in his room with the door closed, he turned to his friend. "I'm not having him executed because he's a sorcerer. You know that, right?"

"Arthur, the man killed a family, including two children, solely for the sake of robbing them," Merlin replied without hesitation. "I think death is a fair sentence. Honestly, I'm more worried about you right now."

Arthur recognized Merlin's worry for what it was – an attempt to change the subject – but after a moment, he decided not to press it. "Me? Why are you worried about me?"

"Because you sound like a frog and you're sniffling, and you came in and immediately slumped against the door instead of wandering around the room fiddling with things. You're still sick."

"I'm perfectly fine," Arthur protested. "I took that awful stuff Gaius gave me this morning, and that took care of it."

"You mean it kept you from literally falling over so you could go to court," Merlin clarified. "Which you did. And now you should rest."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I have training this afternoon, Merlin."

"And if you go, I'll go get Gaius."

Arthur did his best to give his servant a dismissive look. "I'm the king. I'm not scared of Gaius."

Merlin raised his eyebrows and waited, and eventually Arthur sighed. Okay, maybe he was a _little_ bit afraid of Gaius, ever since Arthur had found out about Merlin's magic and thrown him in the dungeons for a week. He had found his way back into Gaius's good graces eventually, but he knew his standing there was still a little precarious.

"Fine," he growled. "I'll take care of some work here. Go tell Leon he's leading the training today."

"I think you ought to take a nap."

Arthur glared.

"Or not then," Merlin surrendered, raising his hands. "I'll just go find Leon."

Merlin hurried out of the room, and Arthur sat down at his desk. The truth was, Merlin was right. He felt awful, and not just the sniffling and the sore throat. His head hurt, and he felt like he could barely think straight. Of course, maybe his head hurt because of the trial.

It was always disturbing to hear the details of a murder, but at least this one seemed clear cut. The man had found a family on the road, used his magic to kill them, and then taken their valuables. He'd been caught in the market trying to trade a distinctive heirloom necklace. Arthur found him guilty of murder and sentenced him to death.

But strangely enough, it wasn't the murder that cast a shadow over this whole situation. It was the man's magic.

This was the first time Arthur had ordered the execution of a sorcerer since he learned the truth about Merlin.

He'd hardly known how to behave during the trial. He'd already started sowing the seeds of change, having private conversations about magic with certain counselors and knights, but officially speaking, sorcery was still illegal. And in his father's eyes, that would have been a greater crime than the murder. Arthur had done his best to express appropriate horror at the murder while not condemning the magic, but there had been moments where it had been a tricky line to walk.

When Merlin got back, he'd ask him how he thought Arthur had done. If anyone would be sensitive about Arthur implying something negative about magic, it would be Merlin.

But until then…until then, maybe Merlin wasn't entirely wrong. Maybe a nap wouldn't be a terrible idea.

* * *

"Do you always just laze about when I'm not around to keep an eye on you?"

Merlin turned away from the window to give Arthur a dirty look. "This coming from a man who has been lying in bed all day?"

Arthur yawned, fumbling to sit up. "You're the one who told me to take a nap. Seriously though, what are you doing?"

But the moment Arthur asked, the truth dawned on him. Merlin was watching the gallows go up in the courtyard.

"Nothing." Merlin walked away from the window and gave Arthur a smile that was obviously forced. "How are you feeling?"

Arthur sighed in exasperation. If Merlin was going to be moody and evasive, Arthur would just tackle the topic through a more official route. "I'm fine. I meant to ask earlier, did you finish the enchantments on the dungeons? It won't do for the sorcerer to escape before his execution tomorrow."

He definitely did not imagine it. Merlin flinched at the word "execution."

"Yes, I finished them last week. I told you that. No one can do magic while in the cells, and depending on how long they've been there, they shouldn't be able to do magic for at least a little bit after they leave. Unless he's way more powerful than he appears, he shouldn't be able to escape tonight, and he shouldn't be able to flee tomorrow. Although you should know," he added, "that the binding doesn't apply to me. So if you ever throw me in the dungeons again, I'll still be able to use magic."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Do you foresee many situations where I'll have to throw you in the dungeons?"

Merlin shrugged. "Just saying."

Arthur watched him as he walked to the table, startling when he realized Merlin had brought the dinner tray up with him. Had he really slept the entire afternoon away? Rubbing his eyes, he made himself get out of bed and sit at the table, even though he had no appetite.

"Merlin," he asked hesitantly, "should I not have asked you to do that?"

Merlin looked confused. "Dinner?"

A coughing fit overtook Arthur before he could answer, but he was able to roll his eyes.

"No," he said once he'd taken a long drink from the cup of water Merlin handed to him. "The enchantment on the dungeons."

"Why wouldn't you ask me to do that? Sorcerers can be criminals too. Don't you need a way to imprison them?"

"I do," Arthur agreed. "I just wasn't sure if maybe you weren't comfortable with it. If it might have…I don't know, felt like a betrayal of your kind or something."

Merlin scowled at him. "I do _not_ consider that man to be 'my kind,' Arthur. Do you?"

"Of course not. I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong with you today. I know it has something to do with that sorcerer, but I don't know what. You've said you believe his punishment is just. Did I say something I shouldn't have during the trial?"

Merlin's face softened. "No, Arthur. You did a great job in the trial."

"Then what? Are _you_ getting sick?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not supposed to lie to me anymore." Arthur cringed when he heard how petulant he sounded. He'd intended to be authoritative, but with his cold, it just came out whiny.

"I'm not," Merlin protested, sighing. "I'm not upset. I don't know what I am. It's just…unpleasant. That's all. I'll watch a sorcerer die tomorrow. And this one deserves to die, but I can't help but remember all of the ones who didn't."

Arthur swallowed the rush of guilt that settled in his stomach. "That makes sense," he admitted quietly. "I'm sorry."

"I know. What's done is done, and the future will be better." Merlin nudged him gently. "There's no point brooding about it."

Arthur pushed his plate away as another coughing fit took him. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked when he was able to speak again, and Merlin shook his head. "You're welcome to have it, if you want it. I'm not hungry."

He went to bed early that night, gratefully taking the potion Merlin brought him from Gaius. With the guilt churning inside of him, he had a feeling he wouldn't have slept without it.

* * *

Arthur woke up a couple of times during the night to fits of coughing, and each time Merlin appeared a minute later with another potion. Arthur had told him repeatedly that he didn't have to stay in the antechamber just because Arthur was sick, but each time he downed one of Gaius's concoctions, he was silently thankful that Merlin had simply rolled his eyes in response.

When he woke the final time, it was to Merlin gently shaking him.

"Time to get up, sire. The execution is scheduled for dawn."

It took a moment for Arthur to process where he was and what Merlin was saying. Normally Merlin was loud and obnoxious when he woke him in the mornings, and the change in demeanor was a bit disorienting. It was possible he was being kinder because Arthur was sick, but Arthur sensed that Merlin's subdued mood was less about Arthur and more about Merlin.

His suspicion was confirmed when Merlin barely spoke as he set out breakfast and helped Arthur dress. Arthur asked if he was all right and Merlin just nodded, and after a minute of consideration, Arthur decided not to push.

"I'm behind on everything," he told Merlin as they made their way through the halls. "I'm probably going to spend the entire day playing catch-up, so I won't need you with me in any meetings today. If Gaius needs you this morning, you're free to help him. I know he hasn't had you in the evenings like he typically does since I've been sick, and—"

He broke off as Merlin pulled open the door for him and he stepped onto the balcony.

 _Fuck_.

Suddenly it all made sense. Merlin's moodiness. The way he kept staring out the window at the courtyard.

It wasn't a gallows. It was a pyre.

Arthur tried to think back to the previous day. When he'd ordered the execution, had he specified the method? He couldn't have. Even with the headache and feeling ill, he never would have been so distracted that he would have deliberately ordered a burning. He'd simply assumed that since the man was being executed for murder, the executioner would choose the typical method used for murderers. He hadn't thought about the fact that the man was also a sorcerer.

And for sorcerers, the pyre was the default. It had been for as long as Arthur had been alive. And it was too late for him to do anything about it now. The crowd was gathered, and he could see the cart approaching with the prisoner.

Arthur glanced around quickly. A couple of nobles had already joined him on the balcony, so he needed to choose his words carefully.

"I'm afraid I'm still not feeling at my best, Merlin," he said quietly, but loudly enough for the others to overhear. "Go prepare another tonic for me to take immediately when I come back in." He had just taken one with breakfast, but for once Merlin didn't argue with him, and he saw the relief in his friend's eyes. Arthur added under his breath, "You're not to watch, Merlin. That's an order."

Merlin gave an almost imperceptible nod, but he didn't meet Arthur's eyes as he turned away, and Arthur forced himself not to watch his retreating back. It didn't matter that he was sick or that his friend was hurting; he was the king of Camelot, and he had a role to play.

He watched as the guards escorted the sorcerer out and secured him to the post of the pyre. The man was skinny with dark hair. He was years older than Merlin, but that was hard to see from so far away. From this distance, it was all too easy to swap in one sorcerer for another. And as Arthur watched the scene unfold, he felt sick in a way that had nothing to do with his cold.

It could have been Merlin. One wrong word in front of Uther. One careless step in front of the wrong knight. One slip in front of _Arthur_ too soon in their friendship. He had been frustrated by Merlin's insistent fear of the pyre, but for the first time, he really understood how many ways his friend could have easily ended up on one.

And Arthur would have been on the balcony at his father's side. Watching.

When he announced the man's sentence, he was grateful for his cold. He had a good reason for his voice to sound so rough.

Then they lit the fire, and the man started screaming. How many times had Arthur heard these screams? More than he could count.

What would Merlin's screams have sounded like? By the gods, he could imagine it. Could imagine his face contorting in fear and pain. Could imagine that stupid neckerchief catching the flames…

 _Gods_. He wanted to make it stop. He focused on the ground just in front of the pyre, refusing to look at the man himself, but it made no difference. His mind saw it all anyway.

_It could have been Merlin._

And not for robbery or murder. No, Merlin's _crime_ would have been protecting Arthur.

"Are you all right, your majesty?" one of the lords asked as it neared the end, watching Arthur with concern.

"Of course," Arthur said, not bothering to try to fake a smile. "Just not feeling well, I'm afraid. This damned cold has been making it nearly impossible to sleep."

"I see," the man said, although he looked skeptical. "Well, I wish you a speedy recovery."

Once it was done, Arthur tried to walk normally as he made a beeline for his chambers, but he had a hard time controlling his pace. He needed to get out of the public eye and get himself under control, although he had no idea how to stop the scene from playing out in his mind. Merlin's face. The screaming. The flames.

He slammed the door closed behind him and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. Was it his imagination, or could he smell the smoke, even in here?

When he opened his eyes, he was startled to see Merlin sitting next to one of the arches, his back against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees.

"I thought you'd be in your room," he said with surprise, although he couldn't deny the relief he felt at seeing him.

"I didn't want to see Gaius," Merlin said flatly. "If he saw you send me away, I'm sure he would have come to find me. I just needed somewhere safe to…to wait. Until it was over."

"So you came here?"

Merlin gave him a halfhearted glare. "Don't look so pleased. It's just because no one else ever really comes in here."

"I come in here," Arthur pointed out.

"You don't count."

"I'm going to choose to interpret that as I'm not someone you fear." Arthur slid down the wall to sit next to him. "I…I'm sorry. I swear, Merlin, it was an accident. And I realize that sounds ridiculous, because how do you accidentally order someone to be burned to death? But he was convicted of murder, not sorcery, and I just assumed…but I should have thought about it. I should have realized."

"It doesn't matter," Merlin whispered.

"Yes. It does." He turned his head to look at his friend. Merlin stared into the distance, eyes glazed over. His face was paler than usual. For a moment, Arthur hoped maybe he _was_ getting sick, and that's why he was so ashen and listless. But Arthur knew even if Merlin were at the peak of health, he would still look like this. "I made you watch that. Over and over again during the years, you had to stand behind me on that balcony and watch…" He shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts.

"When I found out about your magic," he started again, "and you asked me not to burn you…I was furious. I couldn't believe that you would say that. I couldn't believe you would even _think_ that. I mean, I was mad anyway, so it didn't take much to make me angrier. But I didn't understand…I didn't realize. I'm sorry I didn't understand how scared you were. And I'm sorry you I've made you watch that so many times."

Merlin swallowed, a single tear escaping from his eye. He didn't say anything, but he nodded.

"Never again. It's still going to take some time to get the laws on sorcery changed, but I swear, Merlin – next time I have to execute a sorcerer, no matter what the crime is, it won't be the pyre. As far as I'm concerned, no one will ever burn in that courtyard again."

Merlin finally looked at him, his eyes focusing. "Do you mean that?"

"I give you my word."

Merlin sniffed, but he had that look in his eyes – the proud and admiring one that Arthur didn't see often, but made him feel ten feet tall.

"Thank you," Merlin said. "And…I know you didn't mean it to happen."

"You knew, didn't you? You kept looking out the window yesterday. You were watching them build the pyre."

Merlin nodded.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" Arthur asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"Why didn't I tell you what?"

"That it was a pyre!"

Merlin gave him a sideways look. "It didn't occur to me that you wouldn't know."

"Then why didn't you tell me I was being a…prat is not a strong enough word. Why didn't you tell me I was being cruel?"

Merlin shrugged. "He was sentenced to death. Burning isn't exactly a new thing."

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, you always call me out when you think I'm wrong. And this was wrong twice over – one, because he was receiving a sorcerer's punishment instead of a murderer's punishment, and two, because it would a cruel thing for me to do to a friend. I know how you feel about pyres."

"You can't get rid of a punishment just because your friend is scared of it," Merlin pointed out.

"It's not just your fear, Merlin. It's what your fear represents. I'm sure you're not the only innocent sorcerer out there with an unfair but entirely reasonable fear of the pyre."

"No," Merlin admitted. "I'm sure I'm not."

Arthur leaned his head back against the wall. "I'm not trying to blame you. It's no one's fault but my own." He sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair. "Merlin…you don't fear me, right?"

Merlin let out a dry laugh. There was only a hint of amusement in it, but the sound soothed Arthur's nerves anyway. "I mean, I fear how bad your socks smell."

Arthur shoved him with his shoulder, and Merlin shoved him back. Then Arthur stood and reached his hand down to help his friend stand.

"I know you gave me the morning off," Merlin said, suddenly looking uncertain, "but…would it be okay if I stayed here for a bit? I'll even tidy up. Maybe polish your armor or something."

"You're asking to work?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. "Now I'm _sure_ you must be getting sick." Merlin scowled at him, and Arthur grabbed a piece of his armor off the table as he went by and tossed it to Merlin, who fumbled the catch. "Don't forget to do my vambraces this time."

As he sat down at his desk to try to catch up on paperwork, he was secretly grateful. Listening to Merlin putter around the room didn't banish the visions of him burning, but it did help to calm the panic that rose up in Arthur's chest every time the image appeared again.

* * *

"Arthur, wake up. Come on, wake up."

Arthur gasped, sitting up abruptly and smacking his head on something hard.

"Ow!" he heard Merlin complain from nearby.

"What-?" he asked, disoriented, and then the coughing overtook him.

"You were having a bad dream," Merlin muttered, and in the darkness he could see the silhouette of Merlin rubbing his head.

He remembered. The flames. The smoke. The screams.

"I thought I was the one who would have nightmares tonight," Merlin continued, handing him a cup, "but you have to make everything about you, don't you?"

Arthur huffed, unable to force a laugh before he took a drink. He'd expected another potion, but it was just water. He wanted to make a joke in return, but the fogginess of coming out of sleep combined with the lingering terror of the dream left no room for humor.

"Are you all right?" Merlin asked after a moment, and Arthur nodded.

"It was just a dream."

"About the pyre?"

"Now who's making everything about themselves?" Arthur quipped, relieved to find his way into the banter.

Merlin didn't laugh though. He just eyed Arthur carefully. "You seemed bothered by it earlier."

Arthur snorted. "Did I?" he muttered, but it didn't come out as sarcastically as he'd intended. He took another drink of the water, waiting for Merlin to make another joke, but his friend just sat patiently on the side of the bed, watching him. "I guess I'd never really thought about it before," he admitted. "That it could have been you. But this morning…I could picture it. I couldn't _help_ but picture it."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said quietly, and Arthur scoffed.

"Why are _you_ apologizing to _me_?"

"Not 'I'm sorry' in the sense that I'm apologizing," Merlin clarified, and Arthur heard a note of exasperation in his voice. "Just…I'm sorry you're thinking about that. I'm sorry it scared you."

"I'm not scared," Arthur denied immediately, and it was Merlin's turn to scoff. He stood and disappeared from sight, and a moment later Arthur heard his footsteps coming back. He sat down again, another cup in his hands.

"Merlin," Arthur said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm glad you're not dead."

Merlin snorted. "I'm pretty happy about that myself."

"No, I mean…I'm glad you were careful. With your secret. As angry as I was when I found out – because you _should_ have told me – I'm glad that if you erred, you erred on the side of caution."

Merlin nodded, but he didn't reply. After a moment, he muttered something under his breath, and his eyes burned gold in the dark. Then he handed the cup to Arthur.

Arthur drank it automatically, surprised to find that it was hot and pleasantly sweet.

"What was that?" he asked after he finished.

"Another potion for your cold. I just…enhanced it a bit. To make it more palatable. And if I did it right, it should have made it stronger too. Hopefully it will keep you from having any more dreams."

"If you did it right?" Arthur repeated warily.

"You know how I am with healing magic," he said with a shrug. "Either it will stop the dreams or it will make you bray like a donkey again every time you laugh tomorrow. I don't _think_ it will make the ears grow back though."

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed in horror, and the other man laughed.

"Relax, Arthur. If it doesn't work, it just won't work. But it should still help with the cough, even if it doesn't help with the dreams."

Arthur handed the cup back. "Thank you. And thank you for staying again tonight."

"I don't mind. The better you sleep, the less grumpy you'll be with me tomorrow, so really it's just self-serving." Merlin stood. "Get some sleep."

Arthur yawned and pulled the covers up to his chin. "'Night, Merlin."

"Goodnight."

Then Arthur heard Merlin murmur more words he didn't understand, and he felt himself slide immediately into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
